


Lightning in Her Fingertips

by orphan_account



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: Endgame Evil Queen | Regina Mills/Emma Swan, Established Evil Queen | Regina Mills/Emma Swan, Established Relationship, F/F, Fluff and Humor, Fluff and Smut, Humor, Inspired by Once Upon a Time (TV), Lesbian Sex, Masturbation, Prompt Fic, Sex Magic, Smut, Some Plot, SwanQueen Fanfiction Facebook Group (Once Upon a Time), sex injury, swanqueen - Freeform, switch - Freeform, traumatized Snow White
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-13
Updated: 2019-08-24
Packaged: 2020-08-20 14:04:48
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 7,995
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20229082
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: This was a prompt that was posed to the Swan Queen Fanfiction page on Facebook. Original prompt: "Have Regina have an orgasm so powerful that it kills her and when they revive her she has a white streak in her hair."





	1. The Phone Call

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Emma is frustrated because she's been away from Regina for three weeks. Regina, being Regina, does not make it any easier and teases the blonde over the phone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is based on a prompt that was posted on the Swan Queen Fanfiction page on Facebook. Original Prompt: "Have Regina have an orgasm so powerful it kills her and when they revive her she has a white streak in her hair."
> 
> As you know, I don't own the characters but the mistakes are completely my own. Also, this is my first time attempting a prompt and my first time incorporating magic into a story. Shoot me a comment and tell me what you think. Much love!

* * *

“So, exactly how long has it been, Swan,” Regina asked teasingly as she smiled into the phone. She buried herself deeper into the covers and nearly purred when the blonde’s low voice slithered into her ear.

“Watch yourself, Regina,” Emma warned from the other end.

“If you were here, _Emma_, _you _could be watching me right now,” the brunette teased. “I suppose we could video chat, but I need my hands.” Regina bit back her laughter as her frustrated lover groaned into the phone.

“I swear to god, Regina you better not be touching yourself,” Emma whined. She pressed the phone tighter against her ear in order to drown out the noise from the airport. The very idea of having to wait another three hours after having been separated from Regina for three weeks was akin to excruciating.

“Someone has to,” the mayor replied as she grazed her fingers along her abdomen. “At this point, I’m prepared to conjure a few . . . novelties . . . to ease my frustrations until you get here.” The mayor watched as her own hand traveled the length of her stomach and slid along the hem of her lace panties. The waiting was torture. “Do you have any idea how difficult it is to fall asleep without your hand between my legs? My fingers have been a poor substitute, _Emma_.”

Emma dropped her face into her free hand and groaned into the phone. The blonde’s irritation flared at the sound of Regina’s knowing laughter. She should have known Regina would be like this—mocking and taunting her with what she couldn’t have. She should have been prepared for that seductive voice that always found a way to wrap itself around her and ensnare her senses. For weeks—_weeks—_the heartless vixen toyed with Emma, stoking the fires of her aggressive nature until the blonde was tempted to abort her entire mission. Spending these past three weeks buried between those olive thighs would have been much more gratifying than going on a wild goose chase to find some asshole with an unfinished story.

“Regina,” Emma warned again, voice thick with desire. “Keep it up. I swear when I get my hands on you—”

“What,” Regina challenged. “_What_ will you do?” Regina bit the corner of her bottom lip as her hand slid inside her panties to graze her swollen lips. Her body throbbed and ached for Emma. This was the Emma that she needed: the Emma who could barely function because Regina consumed her every waking thought; the Emma who would take her roughly against the wall whenever Regina’s attitude needed an . . . adjustment. She sighed as she removed her hand from between her legs and examined her coated fingers. “Would you like to guess what I’m doing right now,” she asked innocently as she brought her fingers to her lips.

Emma growled into the speaker and stood in order to separate herself from the other passengers who were awaiting their boarding calls. The distinct sounds of moisture and sucking brought the blonde to an immediate halt. Even without asking, she knew what was happening. She could practically see Regina’s lips wrapped around her own delicate fingers and cleaning off the juices she’d just collected. _Fuck!_

“I asked you a question, _Emma_,” Regina hummed.

“I know exactly what the hell you’re doing,” Emma hissed, her lips practically smashed against the phone. “You’re really not making this any easier on yourself.”

“Perhaps,” she sighed. “But I must say, you have been lying to me, Emma. I don’t taste ‘so fucking sweet’ as you put it. I would say there’s a certain . . .” Regina made a dramatic demonstration of sucking her fingers again. “. . . salty quality that leaves the mouth wanting more. Is that why you’re always so eager to taste me?” Regina eased her hand down once again. The silence on the other end of the line was all she needed. Without one word from the blonde, Regina knew that she was on the brink of pushing the sheriff to her boiling point—a place of no return. And that, she mused as she inserted a slender finger into herself, was exactly how she wanted it.

She moaned into the phone as she extracted her finger and slowly circled her clitoris. “Really I’m doing you a favor, sweetheart,” Regina moaned. She imagined Emma in the airport gripping the phone in frustration and impossibly turned on. Regina increased the tempo of her stimulation as she thought of the blonde pacing the terminal like a caged animal.

Emma leaned against a wall in the airport and muttered a curse. She closed her eyes and did her best to shake away the mental snap shots of her lover writhing in their bed and pleasuring herself. She clenched her fist and banged the wall when she heard Regina’s deep sighs become frantic whimpers. Emma knew those noises; she knew what that shift in breathing meant. Those noises should have been reserved for her. Emma was the only one allowed to stroke Regina until she made those cries. It had to be her. It was like a drug to her. She craved the comfort and heat she found between Regina’s legs. She longed for the taste of Regina’s quivering lips against hers as Emma inhaled and swallowed the brunette’s pleas. They were hers. All of it, all of Regina, belonged to her. “Don’t you fucking dare,” she snapped.

But it was too much for the brunette. Regina thrust into herself and lifted her eager hips to take in as much of her hand as she could. The sensations coupled with the veiled threat in Emma’s liquid voice pushed her toward an orgasm that curled its way through her brain and down her spine. It bloomed in her chest and unwound itself in her womb with such a force that her cries sounded foreign even to her own ears. She shook from the force of the release and rode the tremors before collapsing onto the sheets. The smooth material clung to her thighs and absorbed the flow of nectar that continued to seep from her limp body. With a shaky hand, she reached for the phone that had fallen next to her and pressed it against her ear. Her tremulous whines traveled through space and time and nestled themselves in the pit of Emma’s stomach.

The blonde listened as Regina tried to calm herself from the rippling aftershocks. Her walls clenched, desperately seeking something to grasp as she stared straight ahead with unfocused eyes. She had to get home. She _had _to. For the first time ever, Emma lamented the fact that she didn’t have access to her magic outside of Storybrooke.

“Emma, are you still there,” Regina asked before her sultry laughter once again made its presence known.

“Regina,” Emma snarled as she tried to ignore her crippling arousal, “when I get home, just know you’ll pay for that.”

“Now sheriff,” Regina tsked. “That’s an awfully big threat for someone so out of practice.”

“What did you just say to me,” Emma asked through gritted teeth.

“I’m merely pointing out that three weeks away could have made your bark substantially worse than your bite,” the mayor quipped. She’d just thrown down the gauntlet and the momentary silence on the other end of the line told her that Emma was already mentally accepting the challenge.

“Is that your Regina Mills way of calling me rusty?”

“Of course not, dear. I’m simply saying that your bravado would carry a bit more weight if you’d made such a threat _before _you left for New York. Now . . . well, now it’s a bit like being threatened by an ex-body builder who’s reliving the glory days.” Regina smiled triumphantly at the audible gasp that reached her ears. _Mission accomplished. _

“Madame Mayor,” Emma ground out as she returned to her seat. She spoke clearly and slowly. The blonde leaned forward and rested her elbows on her knees as she stared off in the distance, picturing Regina in bed hanging on her every word. “If you never believe another word I tell you, believe this: I’m going to fuck you within an inch of your life the _second_ I walk through that damn door.” Emma disconnected the call and shoved the phone into her jacket pocket. From her peripheral she noticed a pair of bewildered eyes resting on her face.

“Is there a problem,” she asked while crossing her arms and all but daring the stranger to comment on what he’d just heard.

Regina’s sharp intake of breath fell upon deaf ears. She pulled the phone away from her face and checked the screen to be sure that Emma had indeed ended the call without warning her. Somehow, the blonde hanging up on her only added fire to her loins. She could hear the raw promise and underlying warning in the sheriff’s voice. Her body spasmed with anticipation as she envisioned Emma sitting on a plane cursing time and distance. . .


	2. Home, Sweet Home

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Emma finally makes it home from her trip and makes it her mission to get to the one woman that's been driving her crazy. This is the chapter with Regina's death (everyone breathe deep); she comes back in chapter three.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter three will be the hospital scene where Snow tells David that Regina and Emma are fine and explains how they all ended up in the hospital. I will post chapter three tomorrow.

* * *

Emma focused on the thrill of her magic once again coursing through her veins. Her finger tips tingled back to life, ready to release the pure light that she had yet to master. A spark crackled between her fingers, temporarily lighting the interior of the dark taxi. She folded her hands together, hoping the driver would be none the wiser. Another jolt of electric blue heat sprang forth and Emma nearly yelped as a ball of unadulterated energy formed in the palm of her hands. She'd been warned about this, about how magic and emotions don't mix well together. During their lessons, Regina would always admonish the blonde to remain calm and stay focused. Magic was simply the heightened presence and proof a human being's ability to manipulate the elements; however—at least according to the mayor—in the hands of an inferior host, magic was a ticking time bomb. It responded to the energy of its host and fed from the emotions of that witch or warlock. If the wielder didn't learn to control the magic, it would control the wielder through their emotions. _That's a very dangerous gamble, Ms. Swan_. Leave it to Regina—master manipulator—to know how magic and emotions walk hand in hand.

The ball of energy in her hands grew as she thought of the brunette. In a panic, she pressed her palms firmly into the seat, hoping to extinguish the power. _Would you like to guess what I'm doing right now? _The brunette's voice echoed in her brain with a vengeance and all but licked at her earlobes. The feel of heat and smoke rising from the floor board of the back seat pulled the blonde from her lusty stupor. Her sparks were causing a fire.

"What the hell are you _doing_," the driver shrieked as the car swerved on the road. "_That's _exactly why there's no smoking in here," he screamed before bringing the car to an immediate stop.

"Shit-shit-shit! Sorry! I'm so sorry!" She glanced up with pleading eyes before frantically stomping out the embers.

_Screw it. _"Look," Emma sighed shakily and tossed the cab driver his fare—along with a generous tip. "I'll get out here. I can poof—" _fuck me, _"ahem—pretty much walk the rest of the way." Emma grabbed her duffle bag and jumped out of the car. She slammed the door and waited none too patiently for the confused and flustered man to return the way he came. His taillights disappeared as his car traveled deeper into the night road and further away from Storybrooke.

Emma pivoted in the direction of the one and only place her mind and body wanted to be. She closed her eyes and envisioned the calm of their bedroom surrounding her. She reached out to the night air and smiled as the white clouds swarmed her body.

_Is that why you're always so eager to taste me?_ The voice slithered from the clouds and mocked the blonde's attempt to stay focused. When she opened her eyes, she found herself on the front porch instead of inside and upstairs.

"Close enough," she grumbled. The heat from her hands melted away the locks of the front door. Emma couldn't control it, she couldn't even begin to explain how she'd done it. On any other day—at any other time—she would have marveled at her new abilities. She would have walked through each room of the house and attempted to melt every piece of metal until the mansion was held together solely by its wooden frame. But tonight, none of that mattered. It didn't matter how she'd destroyed the entrance to their home; she could not care less. The only thing that mattered was the brunette.

Her mind was no longer her own. The heat from her magic seized control of her faculties and overrode her motor skills. She crossed the threshold of their home—never once realizing that her feet never actually connected with the marble floor of the foyer as she floated up the stairs. Electricity crackled against the balcony as she made her ascent.

The crystal blue force went before her and swung open the bedroom door. The gust of wind announced her arrival as she advanced toward the breathtaking woman who had been the source of her torment for twenty-one days. She watched as the brunette stretched her limber body. The satin sheets lay across her slender frame and hugged at the very curves that Emma intended to sink her teeth into.

She smiled at the image before her as she moved to free herself of her restrictive clothing. Anything that kept her from taking Regina and marking her for all of posterity, even something as simple as a pair of pants and a shirt, had to be cast aside. The white cloud of smoke returned and enveloped her in its warmth before vanishing just as quickly as it came. Emma was only vaguely aware that the cool night air now touched her bare skin. For the second time that night, the 'how' and reasoning behind it all escaped her. The magic flowing through her bloodstream would only allow her to focus on one thing: the amplified and savage need she had for the woman—the deity—stretched out before her. The hunger pulled her toward the bed as though she and Regina were tethered with bonds that no earthly force could rend.

_What . . . what will you do?_

The mayor's challenge rang in her ears and ignited a rumble deep in her bosom. Emma was powerless against the pull and allure of her own essence. Even the celestial energy emanating from her body manifested a desperate need to invade every inch of the mayor's body. The magic called to her. It drove her and spurred her on. It coaxed her ego and whispered into her ear exactly how the brunette must be taken. The magic was controlling her; that electric current and crackling parasite was feeding from her aggression and desire; yet Emma could not bring herself to fight it. It was a part of her. It moved in concert with her motives and stoked the fire of her urges.

Somewhere in the back of her mind, stuck between the realms of twilight and a blissful slumber, Regina's psyche registered that she was no longer alone. The smell of magic and vanilla tickled her senses and she smiled into her pillow. _Emma._

The mayor stretched her limbs once more, enjoying the slight stiffness now that her body had recovered from the orgasm she'd given herself a few hours ago.

"It's about time, Swan," she moaned sleepily as she opened her eyes.

Emma Swan stood before her, nude and sleek. Yet, the moonlight against the blonde's taut abdomen and enticing breasts—while certainly a sight to behold—paled in comparison to the Savior's golden glowing eyes.

The blonde descended on her as the sheets were eaten away by a sweeping cloud. The mayor's body came to life under the scrutiny of Emma's predatory gaze. As if instructed, Regina spread her legs and watched with rapt attention as the blonde crawled up the length of her body. The instant their lips met, Regina felt the pull of her magic leaving her body in order to join Emma's. Her eyes blazed a deep and glowing lavender as she responded to the sheriff's guttural demand to allow her tongue access. She sucked Emma's tongue into her mouth and bit the tip until the sheriff thrust her tongue deeper. Her slender hands, now aflame with the glow of her dazzling crimson energy, raked through the sheriff's hair and down the column of her spine.

Emma growled into Regina's open mouth at the sensation of those blood-red nails digging into her back. She settled her weight between the mayor's legs and pressed her firmly into the sheets. Her scorching lips grazed the pulsing veins on Regina's neck before the blonde bit into the flesh and suckled until Regina cried out and whimpered beneath her.

The sheriff ground her hips into Regina with a possessiveness and authority that spoke directly to her lover's soul. The wetness of Regina's sex smeared against her lower stomach and she pressed herself harder against the source of that heat. Regina met her thrusts and raised her hips until her swollen labia created the most delicious friction against Emma's flesh.

"Remember what I said, Regina . . .," Emma mused against her ear. Her voice echoed throughout the bedchamber as the white cloud absorbed the tenor of her voice and released it back into the night. The flimsy particles that lay across their entangled bodies thickened and morphed into storm clouds. Lightning flashed just beneath the surface of the smoky pillows. Emma shoved one hand between their writhing bodies and paused just long enough to ensure that she had Regina's full attention. Again, their kaleidoscope eyes met. " . . . within an inch of your fucking life," Emma grunted as she slammed three fingers roughly into the mayor's gaping entrance. A clap of thunder mingled with the soundtrack of Regina's soul wrenching cries filled the halls of the mansion.

"OH! EM-MAAA!"

"Did you enjoy yourself? Hm," she asked as she plundered the shaking woman pinned beneath her whose nails were clawing at her behind. Regina sank her nails deeper into the muscles to pull Emma even closer. ". . . sending those texts and those damn pictures . . . "

The bed rocked and slammed against the wall from the force of their love making. Emma demanded more and Regina gave to her freely. The brunette's body opened to the blonde like a pliable lamb led to the slaughter. Even when the sensations became too much, even when the vicious pounding from her lover threatened to send her into utter oblivion, her spirit craved more. The furnace of her being pulled in Emma's magic and in turn gifted the blonde with dosages of her lavender and crimson power. While their lovemaking had always been demanding and intense, magic had never before been an active component between the two women. Now, as Emma claimed what was rightfully hers and what Regina gifted to her on the altar of their bed, magic dominated their very being—neither woman realizing that they were not in control.

" . . . those _fucking_ . . . " her entire body rocked forward from the force of her thrusts, " . . . phone calls!"

The brunette's sensitive walls clenched the sheriff's unyielding hand. Her back arched from the bed and she threw her head back as the screams tore themselves free and escaped into the atmosphere. Her body began to shake in earnest and Emma smiled cruelly at the feel of her pinned legs vibrating uncontrollably. One of Regina's hands—still glowing and coated with her own red energy—dug into Emma's scalp and fisted her golden locks. The sheriff pried the desperate hand from her head and pinned it to the mattress. Their hands—one blue, one red—intertwined at the fingers as Emma increased the tempo and fucked the mayor until her body practically fused with the fibers of the bedding.

In the distance, she felt it coming. Far off, like a wild steed preparing to cover much ground, Regina felt the telltale signs of an impending climax. A part of her feared the inevitable stampede of spasms; and yet, the lavender in her eyes grew brighter as the scratching fire of her release begged to be set free.

"Oh no you don't," Emma smiled, all too knowingly sensing the change in the brunette's body language.

She extracted her fingers as roughly as she'd entered them and slid her sweaty body down the length of Regina's heaving and sputtering figure. She nipped at her rib cage and let her tongue slide across Regina's navel before she positioned herself between the mayor's legs and came face to face with her swollen and glistening sex. Emma's hands, which seemed to have taken on the permanent coating of her electric blue energy, were pressed into Regina's stomach, just below her navel, and held her into place. The thunderous rumbles grew louder and the lightning danced closer to their bodies as Emma prepared herself for the ultimate feast.

The walls of the manor shook and the windows of the bedroom threatened to shatter from the quakes of the storm happening inside the house. Through it all, neither woman realized that the blankets of white and purple clouds were now lifting their bodies into the midair high above the bed.

Emma flattened her tongue and dragged it roughly over the hood of Regina's clitoris. She sucked the bud into her mouth as though she needed it to breathe—to live. The thunder played companion to another series of pleas and incoherent cries that came from the mayor's trembling lips. Emma slid her hand down and returned those three greedy fingers into her lover's ridged and throbbing center. She ignored the burning muscles of her forearm as she rammed into the mayor and sucked wholeheartedly at the tiny sensitive bud. Now, now she would have her due. Now she would have her Regina . . .

The glass of their bedroom windows ceded authority to the shrill cries of the mayor and shattered under their power. She offered her screams up to the night skies and the trees drank them in. The storm seeped through the opening of the broken windows panes and expanded in the residential space.

Olive hands—delicate and frantic—reached down for Emma. She dug her nails into the blonde's hair and held on for fear that her body would fall from this tremendous ride and leave her soul and spirit to roam and put the pieces back together. Emma buried her face deeper between Regina's legs and reveled at the feel of her nose pressed firmly against the silky flesh.

Pale blue electricity radiated from her body. Red energy sprang forth from the mayor's. Each thrust caused the combined powers to get stronger. Each flick of the sheriff's tongue and every ruthless plunge sent jolts of their commingled sparks straight into Regina's core. The closer she grew to her climax, the more sensitive she became to the shocks of light that coiled over and through her body and settled in her brain.

Emma fucked the mayor until the brunette was no longer aware of a time prior to the here and now. Her aggressive touch erased the past and future, leaving only the sharp bolts of a very real and very present stimulation. The waves towered over her and prepared to take her under. The heat ripped at her womb and fought its way up to her frazzled and useless mind. The strain of the orgasm pulled at her mind and filled her senses until she thought she would burst at the seams.

"EMMA! E-MMAAAAHHHHH!" She chanted the blonde's name over and over. It became her war cry and the sheriff answered the call by adding a fourth finger into Regina's bruised and swollen core.

The vice of the orgasmic trap clamped down on the mayor's body and refused to let her go. Fire blazed in her hands, but the sheriff's golden locks absorbed the heat. Energy—pure and raw—gripped the mayor's heart and squeezed as she began to fight the quakes that refused to go away. The lightning seized her chest and traversed an upward path until it settled between her eyes. Regina slammed her thighs shut, trapping Emma's head as she rode the most excruciating and yet some how most exquisite climatic wave of her natural life. Instead of dissipating, it seemed to gain life each time those skillful fingers pounded into her yielding body.

The mayor's thighs squeezed the crown of Emma's head and locked them into an erotic embrace that was both painful and beautiful. Regina sobbed the evidence of her ongoing release. The fire in the pit of her stomach would not let her go free. Her sentence had been handed down. The gods had made their decree: she was going to die like this.

Emma fought against the weakness that threatened to deter her from her goal but Regina's vice grip around her ears only got stronger over time. She needed to finish her, she needed to leave her lover spent and subdued, but damn . . . the pain from those thighs.

Regina's entire body hummed from the onslaught of crackling currents and spasms until finally the lethal formula of Emma's hand and tongue, coupled with their power, proved to be too much. Her juices poured from her body and Emma devoured every morsel like a greedy and gluttoness child.

The fire receded from her hands and her lavender eyes shifted into molten chocolate before becoming devoid of all signs of life. She lay limp and suspended in midair. The Queen's final breath was a wail of tortured rapture as her spirit left to join the ether and her heart stopped beating.

The release of pressure from the sheriff's brain did little to ebb the overwhelming wave of darkness that threatened to take the blonde. If anything, the sudden release aided in her demise as she fought to remain alert. The purple clouds had completely vanished and the white clouds that still cradled them were beginning to fade.

Through the fog of her fight to remain conscious, Emma registered the sound of a scream. It was one of sheer horror. The blood-curdling shriek filled the room without the aid of any magical properties. Emma, with as much effort as she could muster, lifted her head from the between the legs of her lover whom she'd yet to realize no longer had a pulse.

"Mom?" Emma stared weakly at the traumatized woman several feet below her. The last thing she saw before slipping into darkness was Snow White turning to run from the room but crashing into the door frame instead. The pixie brunette collapsed on the floor, features contorted in horror and shock as the word "porn" faded from her trembling lips.

The final curtain call sang out to Emma and she was defenseless against its pull. The darkness won. The moment she lost consciousness, the remnants of the vanilla clouds evaporated, sending Emma and her lover crashing onto the bed. The force of their fall and combined body weights proved to be too much. Upon impact, the bed caved and splintered—sending the two naked women rolling off the broken bed and colliding with the floor. The broken head board fell across Emma's leg but the well of unconsciousness had already claimed the blonde and saved her the misery of the additional pain.


	3. The Hospital

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Snow, Emma, and Regina are now in the hospital. A confused David tries to get to the bottom of what happened.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm horrible. This was supposed to be up approximately two weeks ago. Of course all disclaimers still apply: I own the mistakes--not the characters. This is the final chapter of this story. Hope you guys like it. ;-* Much love!

**Room 107**

Snow White barely managed to nod at her husband before closing her eyes again. The nurses had given her a mild sedative to calm her nerves. Under the haze of the drugs coursing through her system, she relayed to David as best she could the horrific events that her eyes could not unsee.

"She's. . . she's dead?"

"_Nooo_. I said she died. She's not dead, silly." She smiled at her husband before letting her cloudy mind fall back to the last clear memory she could conjure. Emma, her baby-her pride and joy-was in suspended in the air on some . . . invisible sex swing. She screamed before she could stop herself and slammed her eyes shut. In her haste to run away, she'd forgotten to open her eyes and ran right into the door frame and knocked herself out.

"Snow, honey. You're not making any sense," David met her gaze with a pitiful smile and stroked her cheek. "Why were you at Emma and Regina's house so late? You weren't spying again, were you?" He squinted his eyes in mock suspicion when she gaped at him-wholly offended.

"_David! _I do NOT spy on Emma and Regina," she huffed.

"Okay," he pressed. "So, why were you there?"

"The better question is: _where _were you? If you had been at the station, Leroy would never have come to get me."

David scoffed and rolled his eyes. "Why in the world would Leroy come to you? I'm the deputy. All he had to do was call the station-or my cell. Or come to the station for that matter. Try again, Snow."

"Oh for heaven's sake. Ask Lerory, he'll tell you!" Snow grabbed the lapel of her husband's jacket and pulled him close. "I can't blink without seeing it. She had her _face _between . . . I'm going to be ill," she groaned before releasing him. "I swear David, I thought they were in danger. That's why I was there. But I then I made it upstairs and . . . well, they were _causing _it." She was desperate for him to understand.

"So," David started slowly. "You're telling me that they literally finger blasted each other to death?"

Snow's arms flailed and flopped at her sides. She didn't have the energy to explain anything else and at the moment, the medication in her system blurred her vision until two David's stood before her. Frankly, she didn't have enough conviction left to argue with either one.

David sighed as he stared down at his wife and watched her slip into a deep sleep. Years ago it would have been endearing to see his blushing bride stretched out before him. He would have gazed upon her pale alabaster features as the cloak of sleep cradled her in its arms. But now, as he stroked her hair and that distant memory faded, David pulled out his phone and called Leroy. He held on to one thought and he looked at his precious, but obviously confused wife: "I need to talk to someone who's awake and has some goddamn common sense."

"Where the hell have to you been," Leroy snapped after answering on the first ring.

David eased into the hall just outside of Snow's room. "Leroy, what the hell is going on?"

"You still don't know? What the hell, Charming. Didn't the nurses, Wale, Snow-I dunno _somebody _tell you what happened?!" David began pacing as Leroy's voice grew more animated.

"Snow is hopped up on drugs, Leroy," he retorted. "Nothing she's saying is making a bit of damn sense. Something about a lesbian sex book, sex swings, wishing she was blind and asking me to scrub her brain. For the first two minutes all she would say was that they fell out of the sky. What the hell does that even mean?"

Leroy's laughter rang out from the other end of the line.

"How can you laugh at this? I tried to get a status update on Emma and Regina but no one will tell me anything and everyone's being real hush-hush about it."

"Smart people."

"Regina, I can understand; but Emma is my _daughter_." David squeezed the bridge of his nose and let out a tired sigh. Why was the entire hospital staff being so secretive?

"Doesn't matter. Everyone knows that anything involving Emma involves the Queen."

"She's not the damn Queen anymore," he sighed. "Just tell me what happened."

Leroy sat silently on the other end of the phone. It was only fair that David be privy to what he and Snow had seen firsthand . . . but hell. How was he supposed to tell the deputy what he'd seen?

"Well, they started some kind of sex storm,'' Leroy blurted out.

Silence.

"Look, okay. Em and her majesty got a little carried away and the magic just kinda . . . caused a storm. It tore the mayor's house all to hell."

"What the hell are you evening saying, Leroy? How did _you _find out?"

"I was out for a walk . . . getting a little fresh air, is all."

"So, you were walking around town drunk again," David offered up as a translation.

"Hey brother, cut me some slack," the dwarf snapped. "You didn't see what I saw, okay? Your daughter and the mayor—Queen—whatever you want to call her, were naked as skinned rats fucking in midair. You got that? They were on some cloud and I got freaked the hell out so I tried to get you. Maybe the storm killed the landlines and cell signals—hell, I dunno. Anyway, your house is closer than the station, so I ran and got Snow."

David bit back the accusations that were itching to escape. There were only two witnesses to the entire thing: his drugged up wife and the town drunk. He had to talk to Emma.

* * *

**Room 203**

Emma winced against the pain that was rapidly blossoming throughout her body. She barely registered the two distinct monitors beeping through the fog of her piercing headache. She lifted her "good" arm and noted the tubes connected to her arm and hand.

"Well, look who's finally awake." The amused voice greeted her and she made herself search for the source.

"Dr. . . Dr. Wale? What happened?" She tried to swallow to ease the dryness of her scratchy throat. Wale offered her a sip of water and she took it greedily—almost forgetting the pain that coursed through seemingly every limb.

"You don't remember," he asked with a slimy grin. "Oh sheriff, this is one for the ages. You may want to tell the grandkids about this one day." He clapped his hands together and let his gaze shift to the other side of the room.

Emma fought against the stiffness in her neck as she turned to follow his line of vision. Regina lay in the second bed. The steady rhythmic beat of the monitor told Emma that she was alive—not awake—but alive.

"What happened," she asked again. The obvious venom in her voice only made the doctor's smile broaden.

"She died," he said simply—smile still permanently in place.

"What!" Emma threw the sheets away from her body and immediately regretted the decision. Pain and fire licked at her very bones and she cried out. Wale reached for her and placed a calm hand on her shoulder.

"Calm down," he said, finally dropping the sly smile. "You've suffered your fair share of injuries." He pulled her chart and read her list of injuries. "Concussion, two broken ribs, dislocated shoulder, left leg: splintered shin; right leg: broken ankle."

Only then did she stop to fully assess her condition. Sure enough, she looked like a fucking mummy.

"Tell me what happened!"

"In short: You and the mayor over there, according to Leroy and your _mother_, were going at it like rabbits and floating around in the air. Your magic mixed together and created a storm. From what we can gather, it was too much for Regina and she went into cardiac arrest. As best we can tell, Regina's heart stopped at least 30 minutes before the EMTs brought her to us. You were unconscious. The EMTs had to lift the headboard off the two of you. Oh, and my favorite part—your mother was passed out in the doorway of the bedroom." His lascivious smile slithered to Emma and she thought she would be sick.

"My mother?" Emma closed her eyes and flashes of a horrified Snow White danced behind her lids. She remembered now. She remembered that scream and how Snow tried to run away from the image of her daughter between Regina's legs.

_Regina._ Had . . . had Regina's heart stopped while Emma was still . . .? She couldn't bring herself to finish the question.

"Yes, she is fine. You will be fine as well. I'm going to prescribe you a few painkillers. Naturally, you won't be going back to work for at least eight weeks. You'll come here in three weeks and we'll check on your casts."

"What about Regina?"

"Honestly, not a scratch on her," he offered slowly.

"But . . ."

"She's not going to be happy," he muttered and furrowed his brows. It crossed his mind more than once that he shouldn't be in the room—just in case she wanted to set someone on fire when she found out about her new . . . look.

"What," Emma pressed, more than a little anxious.

"Her hair."

"Her hair? The hell, doc. Just say it."

"We think she was either struck by the lightning from the storm or that fear right before her heart attack caused it . . . part of her hair is . . . white."

_Lightning from the storm._ Emma closed her eyes yet again as another piece of the puzzle fell into place. She'd lost control of her magic. That damned lightning had come from her blue electric fingers—fingers that she'd buried in the mayor. _Damn._

"She's going to kill me," Emma groaned. She knew the minute Regina regained consciousness and realized what happened, Emma would be on the receiving end of an entirely different type of pain.

"Well if she does," Wale smirked, "at least you're surrounded by resuscitating equipment. We'll get you back." He laughed as he made his way out of the room.

"You're leaving me alone with her," Emma asked, slightly panicking. "You realize I can't walk or defend myself."

"Then I suggest you sweet talk your way out of this, sheriff. I'm a doctor, not a referee." His laughter bubbled up yet again as he closed the door behind him.

* * *

**Room 107**

David peeked in on his sleeping wife. She was muttering in her sleep—covering her closed eyes and whispering "why me." If what she and Leroy told him had any merit to it, David knew exactly what images were plaguing his wife's dream life.

He eased back out of the room and bumped into Wale as he backed away from the door.

"She's asleep now," he informed the doctor.

"Good, she's been through enough," he laughed and headed down the hall.

"What happened," David asked for what seemed like the hundredth time that night.

"Sorry, patient confidentiality and all that. But you may find some answers in Room 203," Wale said over his shoulder as he continued down the hall.

"I hate this hospital," David muttered as he made his way to the elevator.

* * *

**Room 203**

Emma drifted in and out of unconsciousness. She wanted to fight the sleep—she couldn't take the chance that Regina would find out what happened while she was asleep. What could she say? _Hey babe, I did say I'd fuck you within an inch of your life. I mean, at least we know I'm a woman of my word._ She envisioned the fireball that was sure to follow and groaned. She chanced a glance over at the woman in the other bed. Regina looked so peaceful and beautiful. _She's going to eat my soul._

A knock at the door pulled her back to reality. She nearly cried with relief when she saw her father ease into the room.

"Dad," she whispered.

David, taking one look at this broken daughter ran to her side and stroked her clammy forehead. "Sweetheart, what the hell is going on?"

"What have you heard," she asked, a fresh wave of embarrassment settled in her cheeks.

"Well Leroy and your mother seem to think you and Regina almost destroyed the mansion and probably Storybrooke with some . . . sex storm?"

Emma dropped her gaze and stared at her bandaged legs and feet.

"Emma?"

Silence.

"Emma Swan, you look at me and _tell _me that your mother is crazy and that Leroy is just a drunk."

Silence.

"_Emma_," he chastised. "How could you be so careless," he chided as though speaking to a child.

"_She started it_," Emma whined. "Regina just kept . . . messing with me. And it got a little out of hand."

"So her heart really did stop?"

Emma nodded, still not looking up. "She's going to blast me into another realm when she sees it," Emma mumbled.

"See's what, honey?"

"Her hair. It turned white."

David gulped. Had it been anyone other than his daughter, he would have bid the dead man walking god speed and told them how nice it had been knowing them. "A-all of it?"

"No. Wale says it's just a strip."

"You turned her into Cruella," David asked, trying to lighten the mood.

He walked over to Regina's bed and watched the sleeping woman. Her shiny, usually immaculate ebony hair, was stained with the brightest of pure white in a thick strip that covered the root of her hair down to the ends. The effected patch had to be at least two inches wide. _She's going to kill her._

"It's not that bad, is it?" Emma's hopeful voice halted David's examination.

"Let's just say it might be best if you're discharged before she finds out."

Emma sighed. "How is mom?"

"Oh, she's traumatized for life. Now that I know she's not crazy, I'm thinking of getting the poor thing a dream catcher and letting her suck all those . . . images . . . away."

"Hey! That's what I could do. And Regina would never have to know." Emma's eyes brightened with desperation and hope.

"You really do have a death wish, don't you?" David laughed and shook his head. "That's not smart. Regina will know magic was used on her. It won't take her long to put it together."

"You should listen to him, dear."

David and Emma's alarmed stares mirrored each other's—father and daughter trying to decide if the raspy voice from the other side of the room was in fact real or an auditory hallucination.

_Please, please let me be hearing things. Fuck. Me. Fuck. Me. With. A. Goose. Feather. Fuck. _Emma turned her head slowly as David stepped aside and turned to face a very alert and very deadly Regina Mills.

"H-how long have you been awake?"

"Since before your little conversation with that lecherous Wale," the brunette woman . . . well mostly brunette . . . hissed.

_She heard it all?! _"Why didn't you tell us you were awake!"

"I find that people speak more freely when they believe no one is listening," she answered, her black eyes never leaving the broken woman across from her.

"Well," David said as he cleared his throat. "I'm glad that you two are okay. It could have been a lot worse."

"Other than death? Do tell, deputy."

Instinctively, David backed away from Regina. He loved his daughter, he really did, but he had no intentions of facing the wrath that was Regina Mills. "Yes, well I should check on—"

"Yes, you do that," she spat and waved her hand. A cloud of lilac smoke swarmed the deputy and in an instant, he was gone.

"Where did—"

"I sent him to his 'traumatized' bride." Regina stood and walked slowly toward Emma. She peered down at her lover and stroked Emma's cheek. She waved her hand over the room and the distinct aroma of magic filled the room.

"What did you just do," Emma asked, her voice smaller than she intended.

"Mm," Regina smiled darkly at the blonde. "Protective barrier—no one in or out. I considered a silencing spell, but where's the fun in that?"

"Regina," the blonde stuttered. "Babe, I'm sorry about your hair. We can fix it."

The mayor's smile widened as the sheriff continued to ramble.

"I-I lost control. But it wasn't just me. Your magic mixed with mine . . ."

Still no response.

"What about you? I told you to stop teasing me . . . babe?"

Still . . . no response. Regina just continued to stroke Emma's cheek.

"Babe, I'm injured. You wouldn't attack a defenseless woman, would you?"

"Oh sweetie," she purred. "I'm going to heal you, then the real fun will begin."

Regina waved her hand over Emma's broken frame. A surge of purple heat blast through her body, eating away at the broken bones and damaged nerves and restoring them to their former glory. The bandages melted away and Regina climbed onto the bed and straddled her lover. She bound the blonde to the bed with magic and smiled at the sight.

Regina placed her hands behind her own back—one hand conjuring a growing fireball and the other brimming with red electricity. She leaned over and bit the blonde's ear. "Pick a hand, Emma."

Emma tried to buck her off, but she knew it was no use. "Baby, it was an honest mistake. Wale said this could be something we could laugh about with our grandkids." Emma smiled weakly, hoping her child-like eyes would work for her as they had so many times before.

"Pick a hand, sweetheart," Regina repeated, almost sweetly.

"Babe," she whined and writhed under the vindictive woman on top of her.

"Pick."

_Shit._

"Left," Emma gasped. She cursed her shaking limbs and willed her body to be still.

"Excellent choice," Regina cooed.

The mayor leaned over and bit Emma's neck. The blonde hissed at the mixture of pain and pleasure. And damn it all, she felt her stomach tighten and the moisture start to form between her thighs. She didn't know which one of them was the craziest. Yet, stretched out in a hospital bed—freshly healed and scared to death—Emma knew she had to be the nuttiest one of the two. In that moment, she knew what Regina intended to do. It frightened her. Hell, it scared her half to death. The blood in her veins scorched her skin as the adrenaline began to flow. Even without the magic binding her to the bed, Emma realized that was powerless. She couldn't fight what she saw in those lavender eyes. Regina was going to fuck her to pieces, put those pieces back together and then do it all over again. The blonde felt those familiar stirrings of fear, anticipation, lust, and desire.

"Are you ready," Regina challenged.

The blonde, despite the voice in her head that told her to bow to the Queen and hope for leniency, met Regina's fierce gaze. "Bring it on. When you're done, we'll get you some hair dye for that gray—sorry, white patch, in your hair," she shot back . . .

* * *

**Nurses' Station**

The Nurses and Dr. Wale stood at the end of the hall at the nurses' station and watched as flashes of red lightning seeped from the door frame of Room 203. Emma's cries echoed throughout the floor.

"What happened to the old days," one nurse muttered. "People used to just spank each other—maybe a little bondage. This new-age conjuring storms trend is just bullshit."

"I don't think it's a trend," Wale said while watching the residue of purple clouds float into the hall. "I think it's just how these two get their kicks."

"And you're just going to let them do that _here_?"

"If you want to be the one to interrupt the mayor, then by all means, Nurse Ratchet, be my guest." Wale nodded toward the door and smiled knowingly when the nurse didn't move.

"So what the hell are we supposed to do?"

Wale shrugged. "Keep the defibrillator ready," he suggested as he headed toward the elevator.

"You're leaving _us _to deal with the aftermath," one of the panicked nurses asked.

"Don't be silly. I just thought I'd see if Snow would like to come see her daughter. I'm sure she's anxious to know how she is. I think I'll bring her up." He laughed whole heartedly as the doors closed behind him . . .


End file.
